


Porcelain Heart

by OfTheDunedain



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Octome 2020, ends with fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27218902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfTheDunedain/pseuds/OfTheDunedain
Summary: “(Y/N),” Beel started, though his words cut out and his thoughtful frown lingered in silence.You gave him a sleepy smile, fingers tightening around his in a gentle squeeze. “Mhmm?” You prompted, marking the way his brow furrowed tighter.“Do you miss home?” He asked, voice heavy with concern. He felt the jolt the question sent through your system through your linked hands, and his fingers pressed warmer against yours as if to lend his strength. His eyes, though, were searching your face, trying to read your answer from your eyes before the words ever left your lips.--Reader is gender neutral.A future excerpt from my large fic "A Lamb for the Table", edited to stand alone for Octome challenge.Octome 2020, Day 27: Family
Relationships: Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Porcelain Heart

Movie night had ended, though you had the inkling that Mammon and Levi, who had complained about how _“borin’”_ and _“lame”_ your choice had been for the past couple of hours, were going to revoke your right to choose the movie next time it was supposed to be your turn. _You_ , of course, had not thought it was as dismal as they had—though, perhaps a cheesy, kiddie Halloween film that had appealed to the sudden wave of nostalgia that had overtaken you lately had not been the proper choice for a movie night in the Devildom—no matter how you had hoped to combat the growing sense of otherness you had been feeling.

It was not all a loss.

Beelzebub had thought the night was enjoyable enough; though whether it came from the fact you came armed with a seemingly constant conveyer belt of back-stabbing sandwiches and popcorn for his insatiable appetite or the actual movie, you could not really say. Still, the speed at which Leviathan had retreated to his room for games—perhaps to counter the sudden stench of normie he felt he carried after movie night—was nothing if not impressive, and Mammon, too, had almost immediately excused himself from the House of Lamentation completely.

You admitted _that_ one likely had more to do with the Avatar of Greed’s witch problem or a get-rich-quick scheme than it did with the Pumpkintown movie itself, but the result was ironically similar. You had cleaned up the snacks with Beelzebub, trying to ignore the knotted, sunken feeling that was nagging your chest, and the discomfort it was sending your heart and inner thoughts.

Maybe it really _was_ time to admit you had been feeling a bit rundown and depressed; it was not that you hated the Devildom—in fact, you had grown accustomed to it and had even started making friends—but lately it was like a whisper was running in your subconscious, reminding you of what you were missing back home.

It was something that lingered over you like a cloud as you got ready for bed, and as you climbed under the covers, still unable to shake the uncomfortable press of your own mind’s thoughts, you found yourself thankful that tomorrow was the weekend; maybe if you slept long enough, you would wake up recharged enough to last the rest of the year in the Devildom’s perpetual night.

\--

You had not been sleeping long, and it felt like cement blocks were weighing on your eyes as you sought to fight them open once more. “Hnng,” you sounded, the small groan cutting through the otherwise silent, empty bedroom easily as you sought to find the time. It certainly was not morning; you knew that much, even if this place had no sun to help mark the time passed. So why had you woken up? It was not a dream this time…

Still, you halted in your quest for your D.D.D.’s clock the moment that you heard the soft rapping at your door. The three gentle knocks were followed by a tentative, murmur. “(Y/N)? …Can I come in?”

It was not Mammon; Mammon would not even bother to knock.

Still, you knew _exactly_ who this was.

Suddenly, you were far more awake, and already scooting yourself over on your bed. “Of course,” you called, the sound still bleary and groggy. The doorknob twisted, and as you tugged your pillow to slide after you, Beelzebub stepped inside and shut the door behind him. His amethyst eyes looked heavy even in the shadows cast by the darkness, and the fact he held his pillow in hand let you know he had definitely come to stay. You wondered if it was the same nightmare he had told you about before that had driven him downstairs tonight, or if maybe something else was bothering him this time. Still, rather than ask, you did your best to offer him a smile. “C’mon,” you beckoned, patting the now free half of the bed. “I’ve got room.”

“Thanks,” he rumbled, the sound somewhat sheepish despite his size. He said nothing more, crossing to reach your bed in just a few strides. You watched him as the mattress dipped, and as he worked silently to lie down. For a while you wondered what he was thinking; the knit of his brow indicated _something_ was running through his mind, and for a while he looked everywhere but at you.

Eventually, the quiet sank in again, and the demon settled with his hand in yours, lying on his side. If he had not been looking at you before, he certainly was now. You could feel the burn of his study as he gazed upon your face, though you did your best to lie still and simply mirror his position. Whatever was going on, you knew: the Avatar of Gluttony would speak when he was ready.

For a while, the steady sound of your own breathing was the only sound between you, but that did not last for long.

“(Y/N),” Beel started, though his words cut out and his thoughtful frown lingered in silence.

You gave him a sleepy smile, fingers tightening around his in a gentle squeeze. “Mhmm?” You prompted, marking the way his brow furrowed tighter.

"Do you miss home?” He asked, voice heavy with concern. He felt the jolt the question sent through your system through your linked hands, and his fingers pressed warmer against yours as if to lend his strength. His eyes, though, were searching your face, trying to read your answer from your eyes before the words ever left your lips.

Did you miss home?

You felt a heat welling in your chest, that uncomfortable pang that wrenched through your gut whenever you were alone for too long. It was getting close to the holidays—or would be, if you were back home—and maybe that was what had made memories of the human world so raw recently. Still, Beelzebub did not need anything else to feel guilty over; it was not like he was the reason you were ripped from your life, and he certainly could not do anything to help you get home. So, instead of answering, you tried to bend your expression into one of surprise, or of lighthearted confusion. “What? Where’d this come from?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Beel rumbled, his face falling into a petulant pout.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “And you didn’t answer mine, so we’re even.”

Beelzebub dropped his eyes away from your face, watching his thumb as it began tracing along the back of your hand in slow, even strokes. “I was thinking about how much I miss Belphie,” the demon admitted slowly. “He didn’t want to go to the human world on the exchange program, and I was wondering if…maybe he was sad and lonely.” He paused, lifting his eyes again. “You have a family, right?”

“Yes, I do,” you answered, your voice a little heavier, and a little lower than your volleyed question from before.

“And you didn’t choose to come here, either,” Beel added.

You swallowed, though not trusting yourself to answer verbally, merely allowed yourself to nod. You could see where he was going with his observations, and the tears you had tried to tell yourself you dared not shed were prowling behind your eyes like a lion.

Beel’s fingers tightened faintly, his brow pinching as his desperate gaze shot back to lock with your eyes once more. “In fact, your family doesn’t even know where you are at all, and if they did, they’d probably be worried about you living with demons.”

“That’s…probably true,” you admitted, your whisper strained as your emotions threatened to break free.

“When I thought about how sad they must be—your family—and how you must feel here surrounded by strangers, I—” Beel’s voice wavered, and though you heard no sobs, and though you saw no tears, there was a definitive brokenness to his expression that made your eyes water despite your best efforts. “Are you lonely too? Do you wish you could go home right now? Do…you wish you hadn’t been picked?”

It was like you could see a porcelain heart being lobbed your direction—if you messed up, if you _dropped_ it, it was going to shatter, and take Beelzebub down with it.

“Beel, listen,” you murmured immediately, tugging his hand toward your chin so you could hug his arm to your chest. If he was startled by the motion, you could not tell; still, Beel was one of the most cuddly of the brothers, so you had a suspicion his love language was physical touch. Perhaps this was even what he needed. “When I first got here, I wanted nothing more than to go home. I was in survival mode, just trying not to be eaten.” The redhead’s expression fell further, but you were not finished; you pressed your lips against his knuckles, squeezing him tighter. “Do I still miss my friends and family? Yes, of course I do! How could I not?”

Beel made a sound that danced between a grunt and a whine, and you clung to him tighter when you felt the subtle shift of him perhaps attempting to pull away.

“But I don’t regret being here, Beel,” you added quickly. “I just want to make it so that everyone I love here is with everyone I love there. I’m _not_ lonely here. I have Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Lucifer, Luke, Simeon, Solomon…and I have _you_.”

At least the demon had stopped trying to pull away, though the lift in his mien was overall subtle. The smile that pulled to his lips was sad. “I feel like a bad person, because I want you to stay with us here and never go home,” Beel admitted. “And I know that’s wrong—if someone made a pact with Belphie while he was in the human world and forbid him to come home, I would be sad. But…it’s like what you said. I want the people I care about to meet. I think…I think Belphie would really like you, and you’d like him.”

Again, that knot of lies pressed to your gut and made it ache. You wondered how bad it would be to admit outright you had already met his twin—surely the fallout would be better than suffering with this sick, deceptive feeling between you.

“You’re not a bad person, Beel,” you hummed. Your free hand moved on its own, slipping for a moment into his silken, fiery hair to move it from his eyes. “You don’t have to think about me leaving yet, okay? I’ve only been here a couple months.”

“But,” Beel protested meekly.

“No buts,” you interrupted. “Let’s just make a promise, all right? That we will have a lot of fun together, and, when the exchange ends, we’ll figure out a way to see each other regardless.”

At first, he looked like he wanted to protest your dismissal of the seriousness of this problem, yet after a moment his troubled face broke into that adorable, goofy smile you enjoyed once more. “Okay,” you heard him murmur. “I promise.”

You could not explain why, but a wash of relief threaded through you at the sight, nearly bringing you to tears. Hurriedly you blinked, hoping that the Avatar of Gluttony could not see the prick of emotion in your expression; after all, you were certain he would think the tears came from something darker than that, and the last thing you wanted was for him to think you were lying to him about being lonesome. Even the thought of trying to explain why his promise and his smile was enough to soothe a bit of the ache than had been sinking in over the past few days felt like an impossible task.

Maybe it was something that could not be put to words.

“Now, c’mon. Let’s go to sleep,” you uttered quickly, sinking into your pillow with a profound sigh. “We can start making more fun memories in the morning, all right?”

He chuckled, the sound thrumming through the dark. “We can start with hellhog bacon omelets for breakfast,” he offered.

“You got it,” you answered, almost a shade too quickly. Though, as you cuddled into your pillow, hand still held fast in his, you had a suspicion that you would have agreed to anything he had wanted even if he had not been forlorn and needing cheering.

The thought of doing anything just never seemed so bad as long as it was with him.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is another piece I've taken from the future chapters of "A Lamb for the Table" to use as a challenge piece. It reads a little wonky still, so please forgive my slight burnout after almost 31 days straight of doing various art prompts. xD
> 
> I love big boy Beel, so I hope you love this fluff! <3 Enjoy! 
> 
> PS - Yes, you DID make the demons watch Halloween Town. Bahahaha. 
> 
> ...Man, now *I* gotta go watch Halloween Town.


End file.
